


Secrets Drive You Mad

by intaspend



Category: Kingkiller Chronicles - Patrick Rothfuss
Genre: Chronicler has like two lines, Kvothe cries a lot but not as much as it seems, M/M, Story starts second chapter. The First one has some relevant info thou
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-30
Updated: 2017-06-03
Packaged: 2018-10-26 00:47:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10775976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/intaspend/pseuds/intaspend
Summary: Kvothe's always had secrets, that's no secret (lol I think I'm funny) Some secrets can weigh on you like a stone, and sometimes when you pry them open again, they can break you.





	1. Information Department

Hiya all. This is a sort of info beginning chapter. It holds a sidenote from me, my beta requirements(because I need a beta really badly omg) and a timeline for my personal thoughts on the third book and some of the mysteries. If you're only interested in the story, and not in any other potential stories, or Betaing, then feel free to skip right to the timeline of my madeup third book which is at the bottom, or to the next chapter. As a sidenote, this story is finished, I'm just posting it in increments in hopes that I’ll find a beta before I have to post all of it. 

Alright I've been mostly trying to keep it in canon, but since my timeline goes through the third book, I'm going to have to move out of taking liberty's straight up into making stuff up. I will not be writing a Third Book AU. I am going to casually mention things that I believe would happen in the third book, and make my scenes between them. I'll make a timeline, and if requested I’ll make sidestories. But I'm here to explore the subtext underneath the story, not write a whole new one  
I am not accepting shipping requests. The current ships are Kvothe x Elodian, and implied Bast x Devan.   
I do not plan on adding any other canon character ships. However, original characters that appear very briefly in this story, or any in any side stories I may or may not write, I am open to the idea of ships with other Non-Canon characters. ((Or like, really small ones. Like the girl Kvothe horrifies after the plum bomb))

Also, I really badly need a beta. A few requirements  
-I’m looking for a grammar beta. It’d be nice if you’d point out any plot holes, but there is the good chance I will either have a reason for it, or like it how it is. I'm open to suggestions but you've got to be open to rejection.  
\-- Like I said, I’m looking for a grammar beta. Not a grammar Nazi. You have to be generally well versed in book sentence tropes. Even if they're not conventionally correct, you have to be able to take into account the characters and the setting and somesuch.  
\-- You have to have a good internet connection. I have enough problems with my connection as it is. I don't need to have trouble catching you when Im supposed to post in two days. I have to be able to send you an email and you actually get it in a timely manner (unless you have an emergancy, duh)  
\-- Have to be multi-fandom open. I write whatever comes to mind. I won't send you anything explicit, but I could send you something with things you haven't even heard of. So if you're not okay with spoilers about a certain fandom that you haven't seen or read yet (Ill ask beforehand) then I'll need you to read/watch It.  
\-- I promise Im nicer than I seem and we can rp and talk about ships and theorys and stuff as well as work.  
\-- You also kinda have to be an alarm clock for me. When I want to write something I write, but when I get writers block, I can lose inspiration and motivation for a story in a snap. You kinda gotta be there and be like “Dude. Finish this. Dude. Dude.” Or “Dude look, this can happen next” (your idea might not make it into the story, but there is the full possibility of you inspiring me)

 

Here's the timeline for those who want to know what the hecks going on

Timeline  
\-- As Kvothe enjoys getting into trouble at the University, Ambrose hires mercenaries to hire assassins to hire mercenaries to bribe guard's to pay off servants to kill off the people in line to the royal throne, leaving the King for last and using his father.  
\-- Ambrose’s father dies on coronation day, in a tragic ambush. Ambrose just happens to be at the ceremony already, and is crowned king. His first decree is that only legal citizens can live and go to school in the country. Edema Ruh do not count as legal citizens.   
\-- Kvothe is kicked out of the University. In a fit of spite, he sets Ambrose's rooms on fire, steals from the archives, and before anyone can tell him not to, makes himself a guilder in the Fishery. It takes the Master’s themselves to kick him off the property, and he does not go kindly. Many of the students there should be expelled as well, but the list the King sent only held Kvothe's name.  
\-- He leaves the University and wanders a while, focusing on the Ketan, and his Lute. He spends a lot of his time in the forest, thinking about the Lethani.  
\-- He gets a letter from the Maer, putting him in touch with Skarpi.  
\-- Skarpi is an Amyr recruiter.  
\-- Kvothe spends a while at the Amyr compund, learns secrets, gets into trouble, and through some awesome shenanigans, gets promoted to Ciridae.  
\--This is of course, just before his death March to take on the Chandrian.  
\-- To find the Chandrian, he ends up having to break in the the Royal Palace, and kills Ambrose quite on accident. Its quite the story.  
\--His final encounter with the Chandrian leave him marked for life, bound to have the shadows come alive wherever he goes. Not knowing what to do, he takes the long way back to the Univeristy.  
\--- After his encounter with Elodian, he flees to Felurian, in hopes she will kill him. She instead charges him with the teaching of her son, Bast. His son.  
\-- He flees with Bast all the way to the small town in the book, and sets up shop there.


	2. Chapter 2

I never told what had gone on at the trial for various reasons. The first of which was the obvious, it was tedious, and boring, and I'd rather be rid of it. The second was a subtle thing, a personal matter. I had no desire to tell such things to Devin, or Bast. But here, alone, I feel the need to recount it just to ground it in reality.  
\---  
Kvothe sighed, cutting his personal narrative off like a knife. He wasn't ready, not for this. He hadn’t included it in the story for the same reason. It was a painful thing, especially considering his later expulsion, his compulsion to never go near the thing he so danced around. That, above all else was what had broken him. It hadn't affected his story so much. It was easy to twist a thing here or there,leave a few things out change a word or two. It was still the truth of what happened, but like he had told The Chronicler, he had no compulsion to tell the story. It was his choice what he put into it. He swung his feet off his bed and closed his eyes and concentrated. He concentrated harder than anyone had seen on that face in years. His hair looked like flame and his face looked twice his age but slowly, slowly, emotion drained from the tense body. Kvothe was as calm as a lake and as still as the night and now he could speak of it, if only to himself. If only to the Thrice-Locked Chest.  
\-----  
I never spoke of some of the events of the trial because even now some of them I scarcely believe myself. Though the trial wasn't the end of it, it was the start. The first day was horrifying. It was terrible. They provided no explication and threw me in the hole. It was a dank place that reeked of mold. It was smaller than my place at Anker’s, and the chamberpot was full and stinking. I had been thrown in there with some force and was lying in a puddle of something vile that I took care not to identify. I had been in worse places before- but not many. In fact, only one compares, and of course you know which one.  
_Kvothe shares a small grin with himself, and gets on with the story. ___  
I didn't cry, though I felt like it. I didn't get up, though my cheek was lying on cold hard stone and if I didn't move soon I’d be sore for days. I was certain they were going to leave me there and hope I died of thirst before the judge could arrive. It was perhaps the only time I was certain I was going to die. There was nothing I could do until the judge got there, and I could die well before then.  
You’d think this would be the point that one of my friends came to visit. Wil, or Sim, or Fela. Or even Denna. But no. In fact it wasn't even someone I was particularly happy to see just then. Of all the people, Master Elodian came to see me.  
He looked perhaps as crazy as I have ever seen him- no, that’s not fair. At the time, true, but now I see he was crazy with worry. It was written in every line of him from his hair to his shoes which were on the wrong feet. I had sat up as soon as I heard the footsteps, and the identity of my visitor did not reassure me any.  
Elodian let out a gasp of horror when he finally got close enough to get a good look at me, and I frowned in confusion for a second until it dawned on me that he might actually care that his student was tossed in a vile cell, had vomit in his hair and on his clothes, and finally had such a resigned look on his face that he might as well be dead. It was hard to believe, I know, but in that moment I realized it was true. A second later our eyes met and he let out a breath of relief. For once he actually looked stern.  
“Kvothe, your chasing the wind has lead you right off a cliff.”  
I, of course, had no idea what this meant.  
“These charges are utter horseshit. Dal’s furious.” Elodian grins at me as he continues, sharing a moment of amusement over the Master Sympathist’s affection.  
“Hemme’s having a party, and Ambrose Jackass won't leave his side for it. Left handed tit won't have a tuition less than a hundred talents if I’ve got a word in it.” by this point Elodian’s face was as dark as a storm, I had no doubt that he definitely had a word in it. You’d think I was being uncharacteristically quiet, but actually I was in a small shock. If I were to guess that any of the Master’s were going to come see me, it would have been Dal, and even then I would have been shocked. This, however, was shocking to such a degree I didn't know what to say. Elodian continued to ramble on about this and that, including many captivating descriptions of what torture he would put Ambrose through, given the chance. It was one of the only times I was let on to how truly protective he was of his students. I stared at my feet. Eventually, I worked up the willpower to say something to him between one speel and another.  
“Thank you.” It sounded weak even to my ears and I flinched as it came out of my mouth. I can't imagine what it must have sounded like to Elodian besides dreadfully pathetic.  
Elodian could always see right through me. It wasn't invasive though. It was more like he saw every detail, and heard every subtext. He could understand every emotion behind a statement without having to know what a person was thinking. It was a marvellous thing that I had not heard ever before and have never heard since. I say this three times. So I was not quite as surprised as I would have been had it been someone else at what he said next.  
“You really didn't think anyone would come?” I had thought he sounded scornful then, but now I can pick up on the trace of hurt… perhaps it is only wishful thinking.  
“God’s bones boy, you're not alone. I practically had to tie down Wilhelm to keep him from busting you out. If you died in here there’d be war between the iron law and the Arcanium.” He muttered something to himself then, that he later told me was “If only because I myself brought down this whole building on their ears”  
The last statement I heard though, had me looking up from my shoes and actually at him for the first time. I made an attempt at a wry smile and dry humour.  
“Only Wil? I'm surprised you didn't have to lash the both of them to trees.”  
Elodian seemed to consider this for a moment then nods.  
“That would have been a might better idea then what I actually did.”  
Now that rekindled my fire. I jumped to my feet faster than a horse gallops, I practically shouted.  
“What did you do?”  
I had intended to grab the bars, but given that it was a very small cell and Elodian had his hands there, I ended up grabbing his hands instead. He startled, and jumped back. He looked surprisingly vulnerable for a second in a way that was oddly familiar before he turned and ran. I shouted after him but he was already gone. It was only after I collapsed back into the bile that I realized he reminded me of Auri after I had asked her about the Amyr.  
I was stricken. I had thought Master Elodian’s brand of crazy had given him titanium armour as thick as a wall. It had never occurred to me that anything I could do could hurt him.  
He wasn't gone long, I don't think he even left. He walked slowly back to my cell, his eyes on the ceiling.  
“Nothing. I didn't do anything. I was trying to get you to react.”  
He was silent after that. He stared at the ceiling. I stared at my feet. Eventually I spoke, just to break the quiet.  
“I have an interesting fact for you.”  
That drew his attention.  
“You're crap at interesting fact” It was true, I know, no matter how much it bites.  
_Kvothe shares another rueful smile with himself. After all, he was the only one hearing this story, and he could share as many private jokes as he liked. ___  
“I think you might like this one.” At the very least, it would shock him.  
“Spit it out then.” He looked intent, like anything I could tell him that would surprise him would be the most surprising thing he ever heard- no, that makes it sound like he thought I was stupid. No, he more looked intent, like he believed I could dig up the gates of hells’ own.  
“The Amyr weren’t started by the church, and are still here today fighting for the greater good.”  
I hadn’t looked up from my feet, instead I was counting my breathing trying to figure out how to run away when one was still in a prison cell. I could hear Elodian’s sharp intake of air, could practically feel him relax. It was a basic psychological theory. If you saw a person vulnerable, offer up vulnerability in return and thus it will pay. That's not why I’d done it though. For all he vexed me, I knew I could trust him more than I could any other with the secrets I held in my heart.  
“... That was quite the fact Kvothe. The proof?”  
I sounded hollow, even to my own ears.  
“In the fact that there is none. You can search and search for days and find nothing on the Amyr. Not a single official document. Not one. That and… Personal experience.”  
My voice must have cracked at the end, because when I looked up momentarily, he looked horrified.  
“No, no. I haven't met the Amyr. Not yet… It was much worse than that.”  
I suspect now that there was sympathetic bindings, or alchemaic principles or something of the like to loosen my tongue, as all I could feel was the undeniable urge to let spill all the pain in this one moment.  
I could practically feel the puzzle pieces clicking in his mind.  
“The Chandrian.”  
I nodded.  
“The Chandrian… Haliax, Cinder. The others... “ I was lost then, lost in my own misery. “My parents, my troupe. The blood, the fire. The Amyr. I ran… the forest. Tarbean…” You have to understand of course that the mind works in mysterious ways. As I was saying each piece I was seeing it happening in my head. I was watching it play out on a silver screen. I was less than unaware of where I was and who I am. I had simply no idea. I didn't even realize I was talking. “So cold. So hungry. So alone. Rhetoric and Logic. Rhetoric and Logic. I can still read the words but I feel like soon even that may fade. I have nowhere else to go. The University would not accept me I am not even 12. It's so cold. I'm so alone. I don't even have music. I have nothing.”  
Perhaps if I had had my lute in that moment some things would have been different. But I reached out my hands for something that was not there and tears started streaming down my face. I cried because I had nothing. Even if I had friends and all the world it all meant nothing without my precious Lute. I didn't even notice the slight clang of the door opening and closing so desperate was I for my music. I didn't notice when Elodian sat down next to me. I only noticed when he wrapped an arm around my shoulder and pulled me tight to him. I only noticed when he held my hands and brought them to his chest. I only noticed when he started singing, eyes shut. It was only the I noticed how truly beautiful he was. I could feel his song in my bones, and it slowly drew me back to reality, and then it took me far far away from it. To a green meadow on a perfect day with nothing to do but dance. I leaned against him and cried, just the slow falling of years down my cheeks. I soon fell asleep and I’ve no idea how long he stayed, just that he wasn't there when the guard threw a bucket of water on me in the morning. We never spoke of it again after that. Except… Once.


	3. Chapter 3

Kvothe stands from his place on the bed. He looks at his wall for a few seconds, he sighs, and the man who calls himself Kote leaves the room and thumps his way down the stairs. He goes behind the bar, picking the strongest liquor he has and pouring himself a glass. This is something no one has ever seen him do in this small town before. Even Bast looks shocked. Kote had told Bast he wasn't feeling well, to take over the inn for the day. In all honesty he’d forgotten. He didn't even realize how full the room was until the jangled notes of a startled lutist seep into his ears. He doesn't even realize that it was because he had taken the lute until it was already in his hands. He hadn't even realized he was tuning it until he was into the first verse of “Tinker Tanner”. He couldn’t even tell he was singing until he stopped. Kvote dropped the lute like a bag of hot coals. He took a couple steps back to get away from it. He glared at the thing like it was a demon, even as his heart was breaking.  
“No music here.” He turns, and with a glancing look at the sword on the wall stomps back upstairs and away from the room. When Bast tries to talk to the broken man he’s simply ignored, and Kvothe locks himself away again.  
\------  
Bast glares up the stairs and glares back at the mid-filled room. His eyes land on The Chronicler who’s paused midway dipping his pen for a young man who works the fields for coin. Bast stalks over to him, moving gracefully through the crowd to hiss in the scribe’s ear.   
“This is your fault.”   
The Chronicler shrinks in fear for a second, then something occurs to him.   
“Didn’t he look more like Kvothe just then?” Of course, this moment of epiphany was laid neutral by the fact that he announced this to the whole room. Bast cuffs the scribe and laughs, waylaying any whispers before they start.  
“Reshi? Kvothe? My Reshi anything like the Kvothe of legend? Can't anyone see past the red hair? I mean why would Kvothe the Arcane have a sword called Folly on his wall? Kvothe was one of the Ciradie wasn't he? Completely beyond reproach.” This may have been a bit much, but the people nodded in agreement anyway.   
“Yeah, and Kvothe’s hair is like fire. Poor old Kote’s head looks more like someone dumped dirt on a pool o’ blood.” This was the first random pipe-up of many that would go on all night.  
The Chronicler would complain about it later, but for now Bast apologizes to the lutist, and everyone goes about their night in their own way. And we rejoin Kvothe pacing in his room.  
\------  
If someone else had been in the room, the tense silence would have been broken by an awkward attempt at humour. ‘You're going to wear a hole in the floor’ or, ‘I wonder if there’s something on your mind?’ which would have fallen flat and only brought to light how bad it really is.  
It was bad. Kvothe was slowly driving himself insane with his own secrets. With his own pain. His only hope was a thousand miles from here no longer even thinking of him. The only information he’d even heard about him in years had come from the scribe, and even that small bit was from years ago itself. Kvothe was wrong of course, not a day goes by he doesn’t think of Kvothe. And the wind is both their friend. Kvothe may not see it’s name anymore, but it sees his.  
Kvothe paces for a long time. Mainly because Bast stands outside his door for a long time. He feels bad for acting this way, but Bast has known for a long time time that there's something wrong with Kvothe, so Kvothe doesn't feel guilty at all. But even the fae have to sleep eventually. Kvothe can hear Bast’s hesitant footsteps as he walks away. He knows just as well as Kvothe does that dealing with these things alone only makes it worse. But Kvothe also knows that sometimes thats the only thing you can do. To someone like him, it's the only thing to ever do. Only one person has ever proved him wrong on that, and we all know who that is by now. (No, not Denna, she's more likely to prove him right then anything else. Have you even read the books? Read them again even if you know to whom we are referring. They're worth it)   
As soon as he can no longer hear Bast’s footsteps, or his worry, Kvothe lets himself fall on the bed with a groan.  
See, the next incident didn't happen until after he came back from Imre. There were small things here and there but nothing significant until…  
“I wasn’t thinking, when I told him about Felurian. All I was thinking about was the naming. The experience I’d had with the sleeping mind. I wasn’t thinking about the other implications. Not that I can be blamed of course, it was Felurian, and I was young.” Kvothe pauses, and starts to hum. Its an enchanting tune. He sings briefly. “Kreata Tu ciar tu alaran di…” he found out what the Song of Felurian meant eventually, but he wasn't all that inclined to share. You probably don't want to know anyway.   
“I went on and on about it. Every detail. I was so wrapped up in it that I didn't notice Elodian’s slow mode change from impressed to annoyed. Or maybe prideful would be a more apt description? I can't say I'm an expert on what he was thinking. I was going over for the fifth time how I convinced Felurian to let me leave when he finally snapped.”  
\------  
“... So I took the worst song of Felurian I knew, and made it worse, which was the second to final nail in the coffin. Then, I took out the sealed off part of my mind, and I twisted it so that I told her her canoodling spills should ‘suffice', then,” I was also very, very drunk at this point, “I told her she had to let me go so that I could compare her canoodling to the canoodling of earthly women! Though really they're both quite good. It's just like different flavors.” I hadn't said that before, and it was accompanied by lots of proud hand-flapping as well. Needless to say, I was not expecting it when Elodian pinned me against an alleyway wall. I,hadn't been paying that much attention to anything but my own story, so he could have walked me to jail and I wouldn’t’ve known it. As it was he had simply lead me to the most secluded part of town.  
“Is that why you're going through every woman in town?” Elodian's eyes were narrow and he looked dangerous, so the desperation in my head shaking was real. Elodian scared the crap out of me- and I was drunk.  
“No, no I'm a gentlemen, I just like the company, that's all.” This was mostly true. Of course, I was also hoping just a little bit that Denna would say something. She never did.   
Elodian doesn't relax. “So she let you go for comparisons sake, huh?”  
Vigorous head-nodding from my direction.  
He leans in close and whispers in my ear.  
“You know, if you’re really looking for comparison, you're going to have to try a man.” After that he let me drop and walks away, whistling “Daisy Bell” a scale higher than it should be. I groaned in despair and sat there in perfect misery for possibly the rest of the day. It's hard to tell these things sometimes.  
All I knew was that things had somehow gone from great to horrible in the span of a breath. I clutched my lute case tight and cried, not moving until I started to lose light. This could have been minutes or hours but it felt like days


	4. Chapter 4

In my defense I was extremely drunk.  
Well, actually I know exactly how long it was. About ten hours actually, and I didn't get up by myself. I was even more miserable in the morning, what with a pounding headache added to my trouble. I had absolutely no intention of moving until strictly necessary. In fact, I was only disturbed a few hours after dawn. Wil nearly gave me a heart attack.  
“Kvothe! There you are!” He yelled this at the top of his lungs. It was more like screeching really, not that we’d ever tell him that. I flinched from the pain and slowly turned my head to look at him, only to find myself tackled even more to the ground than I already was. I still to this day don't know how he managed to tackle someone who was sitting from a standing position, but I suppose relief will do that.  
“Merlin’s balls Kvothe, don't do that to us so soon after getting you back.”  
That's about when I realized what had happened.  
“Sim tried to visit last night, huh?” I tried my best not to sound as horrible as I felt and failed utterly. Not that Wil noticed.  
“Yes! It wasn't even that late. We waited until dawn, but when we asked around Master Elodian told us you should have been back before Sim even went over.” He releases me from the hug and looks around in a moment of realization. I’m not looking forward to the rest of this conversation, but at least my lute case isn't digging into my chest anymore.  
The light above Wil’s head is practically tangible when he finally gets it.  
“Have you been here all night?”   
Right on the money, but it still stings. I open my mouth to lie… and he claps his hand over my mouth. My eyes narrow dangerously.  
“Nevermind. If I let you answer you’ll soothe my worries with your silver tongue.”  
If he didn't take his hand off my mouth soon I was going to lick the damn thing.  
“You have been here all night, and you are currently nursing a hangover worse than Sim’s after they told him you were dead.” He tilts his head as he thinks about it.  
“What happened?”   
I can't exactly answer with his hand over my mouth, so I make my point abundantly clear.  
“Gross Kvothe, but I’ve had worse. Master Elodian hurt your feelings didn't he?”  
My eyes narrowed even more dangerously. Prodding I can take, teasing, not so much.  
“Alright, alright calm down kiist. We really need to see a therapist for your temper. What I meant was, Master Elodian has a penchant for pushing people's buttons. Even ones the person didn’t even know they had.”  
This was true enough, and fair, but that doesn't mean I had to like it. I gave him my best glare, one that would have whole rooms of people trembling in fear. Wil yawns. Having friends can be disadvantageous at times. Especially when you're trying to strike fear into people’s hearts.   
“Look, Kvothe, me and Sim, we don't judge you know, but I thought you had it bad for that Denna girl? No, wait, nevermind. Friendships allowed, I mean, if Sim did what Denna does I’d probably spend half my time looking for him to.” It takes me all of three seconds to process this, another couple to move past the shock, and not even a second more to bite his hand. Wil jumps back like a frightened rabbit, holding his arm.  
“You bit me!” He doesn't sound as insulted as shocked- which is good, because I wasn't sorry. He deserved it.  
“I was tired of your prattling on and jumping to conclusions.” I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand and stand up, offering a hand to Wil.  
“Now what in the world makes you think I feel anything like I do to Denna towards Master Elodian.”  
Wil takes my hand to pull himself up.  
“Its your eyes.”   
I knew my eyes were expressive, but I don't understand how he could have made that leap from just the color I tilt my head in confusion.  
“They’re grey. They don't even get grey when Denna leaves you in the dust. They usually just get murky, but they’re actually grey.” Wil shrugs. “I guess it's just one to add to the list.”   
My mind swirls with this new information. Grey? Actually grey? I must be stuck on this longer than I can tell, because Wil starts to look worried. I quickly cut my mind into a second piece to let murder over this new revelation.  
“You have a list?” Despite my shock, I'm genuinely curious.  
“Yeah, I've got them mostly memorized, but Sim needs it because I quote, ‘Kvothe's moods are as volatile as the stormy sea, and I have no intention of making a mistake.’ I told him he was being paranoid, but then he pointed out just how little we actually know about your past.”   
I could respect the gentle probe for information. That, and I felt guilty. Wil and Sim were my best friends, and they only even knew I was Edema Ruh because of Ambrose.   
I sighed.  
“I suppose you deserve at least an overview of the story. You should know that it doesn't exactly have a happy ending.” I never knew that I would be giving the same warning of tragedy years later.  
“You're here aren't you? You can make it one.” Wil grins easily at me, and at the time… at the time it was comforting.  
We met up with Sim, and we went to a quiet place right outside Imre. They were attentive, and once I got started, needless to say, I couldn't stop. I told them everything. Everything except the Chandrian, and Skarpi. I replaced the Chandrian with bandits, and I simply removed Skarpi completely from the tale. I had Sim crying by the end of it, and I think the only reason Wil didn’t cry was because three men crying on the same day was slightly too much.   
\-----  
The wind can whisper. The wind can howl. The wind can breeze. The wind can blow. The wind can find. The wind can bring. They wind can bring something it found along a breeze, it can blow it into a whisper, and when that whisper isn't heard it can howl it at the world. Listen to me! I’m helping you. Please, just… listen. Then it quiets, as no one can truly hear. No one but the very few that is. Auri can hear. Elodian can hear.   
When Auri hears she looks up toward the ceiling of her Underthing for just a moment, and she whispers to the wind. “If Kvothe dies, I shalt never forgive.”   
Then, she goes on as if nothing has happened. Maybe next time she’ll tell the wind to make Kvothe visit. It has been to long.  
Elodian’s reaction is not half as calm as Auri’s. In fact, it's several times more intense. A fairly generous estimate is three times more. He actually falls into a wall. He stumbled back and tripped over his own feet, hitting his head against a windowsill. The student he was talking to becomes a University legend for decades. Elodian flees as fast as he can, for once not showing as much sense as he has, as he tries to outrun the wind. And so the wind howls at him wherever he goes, pleading with him to listen, and carrying Auri’s soft words to him over and over and over again.  
 _“‘If Kvothe dies I shalt never forgive’…_  
 _‘If Kvothe dies I shalt never forgive’…_  
 _‘If Kvothe dies’..._  
Listen friend… please listen. . .”  
Of course these are not actual words. They are the way the wind shapes itself, and it's ever-changing name, to show Elodian the way. The way to Kvothe.  
For while Kvothe has done a lot of saving, even the best sometimes need to be saved.  
\-----  
I didn't get into what exactly happened every single time Elodian and I were together, and it was honestly because there wasn't that much to say. Sometimes I would swear I noticed him looking at me, and I definitely watched him when I thought he wasn't looking. I did exercise after exercise, but I think that what we were both learning was each other. I never called another living things name after Felurian. That doesn't mean I never had it in my grasp. Towards the end of my time at the University, I learned the song he had sang to me while I was in prison had the names in the air around us. The wind, the stone, the water, me, him. It was the only time we ever spoke of it, and it was only briefly to explain the difference between grasp and control. I learned that Elodian was constantly seeing the names in everything. I also learned that He had cracked because of it. See, the sleeping mind isn't like the waking mind. It doesn't have to make sense, it doesn't have to be nice, it just is. It has a deeper understanding of everything, and completely overwhelms the waking mind.   
They had to place him in the Crockery until he could find the balance between waking and sleeping well enough to function.  
I was horrified. I expressed as much, and he told me I had nothing to worry about. I had overcome Felurian after all, my sleeping mind would be no issue.  
That hadn't been what I meant.


	5. Chapter 5

I hadn't been able to leave. I just… couldn't bring myself to do it. After it all, after everything. I’d been kicked out. For once it wasn't even slightly my fault and everything I’d done to stay at the University was all for naught. I wouldn't even get my guilder. I’d been expelled. I could never ever come back. I was more than devastated, I was appalled, I was horrified, I was distraught. I was lost. I couldn't even speak to my friends again, or Auri. All because of Ambrose Jackass. I couldn't even cry I was so devastated. I didn't even look up when I heard footsteps approaching.  
“Your luck is as bad as a blanket made out of Donkey’s arse. “   
My head shoots up. I never thought I would see Elodian again, and there he was, standing with his hands on his hips and looking more intimidating than Jackass ever had.   
I couldn't help it. I laughed. “Well you're certainly right about that.”  
He grins and holds a hand out to me.  
“I don't care what Jackass says, you're my El’the and you always will be. King or not he has no authority over me.”  
I took the hand and pulled myself up into a hug. No one else had stood by me. No one else could have. They would have been expelled as well. After all, slander against the King could be seen as treason, and I was lucky I wasn't being executed. He patted my back gently, twice, then held me out at arm's length and tried to look stern.  
“Now you go and you get and lots of trouble you hear me? And if you happen to commit some treason in the form of assassination along the way well nobody’ll cry.”  
 _Kvothe has to stop and laugh for a minute._  
Yes, he actually said that. I put on my most serious face.  
“Of course. And if I die, I shall die with honor.”  
You could see his struggle not to grin.  
“There will be a place of honor for your memory,” he thumps his chest over his heart twice. “Here. Always. Now go. Go for liberty! Go for justice! Go for kicking annoying jackasses in the rear end and proving you’re worth three of them!”  
I couldn't help it, I laughed. I got it under control as quickly as I could, and strained to talk through the laughter.  
“I will Master! King Jackass will rue the day he first saw my face.” We both keeled over with laughter. Elodian waves his hand in the air.  
“My pupil, I beseech you. You have now proven yourself capable enough that you no longer have need to call me Master, “ I continue to giggle throughout his speech. “You may now call me…” drum roll please. “A-” he stops and frowns in thought. “Actually, I’m serious. You can call me Elodian now. Or any name you like really. You're good at naming thing.”  
I blink, surprised. I didn't expect that. I start to talk, but what comes out of my mouth isn't what I meant to say. It's a single word- a name. I called him “Amorè” Both of us freeze. I have no idea what this word means, but it's abundantly clear that he does. “I- Sorry, I don't know where that came from-” I stop myself because it's obvious that I'm just making things worse. I try not to look worried that I've just ruined everything,and consequently look especially worried. He slowly unfreezes. I always assumed that it was because he realized I didn't know what it meant. He coughs twice. A habit of his I’d been noticing lately- doing things twice, not coughing.  
“No, no I was just surprised. It's a good name.”  
I got the overwhelming feeling he was lying, but I couldn't press it and I had to go soon anyway.  
“Well, alright… I’ll see you again sometime,” I flash my most confident grin. “I guarantee it, Amorè.”  
He takes my hand and looks me straight in my eyes.  
“I’ll hold you to that.”  
I was to flustered to say anything else, so I simply nodded. He dropped my hand, and we both left. We went our separate ways. The next time we met didn't go nearly as well.  
\---  
Elodian ignored the wind as long as he could. In other words, about an hour. It was a long way to The Waystone Inn, and he had no time to spare being whiney. It was Kvothe on the line, and for Kvothe, he would do anything. So he left without a word. He stole a horse (he asked the horse first) and followed the wind where it bade him.


	6. Chapter 6

The next scene I left out of my story, didn't actually have much to do with Elodian at all. It was a time I talked to Denna. It was just before I left to seek out the Amyr base, and she wasn’t particularly happy with me…  
“Kvothe, why are you doing this?”  
She had come out of nowhere and ambushed me while I was washing one of my shirts.  
“Because it’s dirty…?” I held up the shirt to accent my point, and she sighed in annoyance.  
“Hunting the Amyr! If it's just to prove me wrong, it's not worth the trouble. You could die. They could kill you before you even saw them.” Her voice cracked towards the end, and I smiled ruefully.  
“I'm not doing this to prove you wrong Denna. I need to do this. I've spent most of my life chasing this mystery, I have to finish this.”  
This was probably the wrong thing to,say, in retrospect.  
“This isn't worth your life Kvothe!” It's funny to call this a fight, since we were arguing over the worth of my life, but we were both angry enough there's no other word for it.  
“This is my life!” I had never thought of it that way before, but it was true. I had let it consume me.  
“Well what about the people who care about you!” Her hand flew back, getting ready to slap me. “Do their feelings mean so little?”  
“It's not about them, it's not about you! My family is gone, my life destroyed, because of them! Because of The Chandrian, because of The Amyr! It's about what I have to do.”  
She slapped me. I can't say I believe I deserved it, but I certainly needed it. Not that it helped the current situation much.  
“Are you just going to throw away everything you've made for yourself? Everything you've cherished? For revenge?”  
Now my temper has never been the best, but Denna always seemed to bring out the worst in me.  
I looked her dead in the eye. “No. Just you. There's someone else I've promised to see again.”  
I earned the slap she gave me for that.  
I went to the Amyr undeterred, and with a will to come back alive.  
\---  
The wind knows things, and the wind knows what needs to be done. So as Elodian trots through the country, guided by the wind, the wind carries him the words of Kvothe. The wind was urging Kvothe to tell the tale. A faint whispering in the back of his mind he could no longer understand. But that was okay. The only one who could was coming to fix the broken hero.  
Perhaps to fix the broken kingdom.  
So said the wind, and the wind knows all.  
\----  
I think the only reason I survived the Chandrian was because of my promise to Elodian… to Amorè. Its funny. I still think of him as Amorè after all these years, though I have lost my right to. After the Chandrian were defeated, and the King dead at my hand, I wandered. I just walked. I let my Ruh Blood guide me and it kept me from anywhere that might recognize what I was now. That, and I had to keep running from the shadows. The shadows that would come alive… What we know as the Scrael. I have absolutely no idea how long I walked, or where I went. All I know is that I eventually found myself standing outside the University. I didn't know what to do. I wanted to go in, but I felt there was no place for me there or anywhere. A student,a young girl, flush with excitement stops and talks to me.  
“Admissions are going to be over in a couple hours, you’d better hurry up! They let me in for two talents! Two!”  
I couldn't help but smile sadly. She was so enthusiastic, and so very young.  
“It's alright. I’m afraid I was expelled by decree of the King. I’m Kvothe.”  
You could see the extreme change in her demeanor after that. He eyes went wide, and her mouth fell open in awe.  
“The Kvothe?”  
I nodded.  
She gaped for a few more seconds.  
“You're a legend.”  
“I happen to be aware.”  
And a few seconds more.  
“Is it true that you seduced Master Elodian by naming all things?”  
I raised an eyebrow.  
“That's a new one.”  
She shrugs.  
“But is it true?” She looks like she wants it to be true quite badly. I'll never understand women.  
“Well, there was never any seducing, and it was the other way round.”  
Her eyes go wide again.  
“Really?”  
I nod  
“Well it's not as good as an illicit affair but I’ll take it. Oh Fela is just going to die when I tell her!” She runs off before I can stop her. Her similarity to Fela hits me just then. They’re complete opposites, but the features are quite similar. At a guess, that was a younger sister.  
I make the decision to go find a few of my old acquaintances and catch up a bit. Then I would leave. I head to the fishery first. I had an idea for Kilven’s ever burning lamp. I carefully maneuvered my way through the Fishery and to Kilven's office as silent and stealthy as a shadow. I knock lightly on the door, and come in even as he calls out for it. He doesnt look up from his work for a few moments, but the second he does, he drops it like a hot potato. He breathes my name as if he can't believe it.  
“It's been too long Master Kilven.”  
He breaks into a broad grin and wraps me in a bear hug. I happily comply until he deigns to let me down. He peers down at me curiously.  
“You must have had some ideas for the ever-burning lamp on your travels.”  
I grin a cheshire grin, as wide as a cat. I’d missed this.  
“Maybe just a few…”  
He laughs, and we set to work.  
I spend half a day in the Fishery, and leave exhausted and exceptionally pleased with myself.  
I head to Elxa Dal next.  
We go out for drinks and catch up, and we may duel with a talent on the table, and it may have ended in a draw. We heard stories but we could never remember. Wil and Sim stumbled on us in the second hour and I spent some time reuniting with them too.  
All in all it was the best night I’d had in a long time.  
As the wind brings him the words, Elodian flinches. He knows the ending. He knows the tale.  
In the morning it was time to face the music. I had one more person to talk to before I left. I needed to talk to my Amorè. I prowled the University grounds, I visited Auri for a while, I asked after him, I even checked his rooms. I didn't find him until dusk, and even then I didn't catch him until night had well and truly fallen. I caught up to him on a rooftop, me panting, him looking well and truly smug.  
“I thought I should give you a taste of what Its like whenever you leave and don't come back for years with no word.”  
Given this was Elodian, made perfect sense. I managed to stand up straight and smile ruefully at him.  
“I’m sorry Amorè. Things didn't turn out as well as I’d hoped.”  
That's when he really looked at me. That's when things took a turn for the worst. His words were accented with absolute horror.  
“Kvothe, what did you do?”  
Of course he could tell. Elodian was the Master Namer. He could probably see my name as easily as he saw my face.  
I hung my head. I looked out into the distance. I put on my best brave face.  
“What I had to.”  
Elodian's face turned grim. Stormy, even. Maybe a little sad, maybe a little afraid. But terrifying. I took a step back. His lips turned white as he pressed them together. I took another step. He said one word. One that to this day I can't identify, and I fell off the roof. It was the most painful thing I've ever felt. Suddenly I couldn't think. My mind felt foggy, my body leaden. I stumbled to my feet. It was a miracle I was still conscious given the state I was in, but I somehow managed to run. To run far far away. All the way to Vint and back. The rest, I suppose, is history.


	7. Chapter 7

Kvothe stands for the last time. He feels the end of his tragedy in the depths of his soul. Whatever Elodian had done, Kvothe could no longer think like a sympathist. He could no longer remember even the simplest sygaldry, and he found no desire to practice the Ketan. He could still access his Heart of Stone, his Spinning Leaf, but his Alar was completely beyond him now.  
He had truly lost everything. Except Bast of course. But was Bast truly his at all? Kvothe was cursed to walk this earth forever, and Bast was a faen creature. Part human, but very much belonging in the fae. It was doubtful that Bast would even feel the loss when they parted ways. It irritated all fae to see a person suppress their nature, but beyond that they didn't understand time like humans did, so they didn't understand missing someone. To them it was promised to see them again, and everyone else was mortal. Mortals of course, don't mean anything to the fae. So no, he could not even lay claim to Bast. He looks over at the Thrice-Locked Chest. Then he steps out of his room. He is no longer Kote at all. He is Kvothe. It’s near dawn, but Kvothe has no intention of opening the Inn today. Kvothe is one of the Ciradie. Kvothe is the Chandrian. He is above and beyond all mortal kin, above and beyond reproach. And for the Greater Good, Kvothe knows he must die.Kote had all This time been waiting patiently to die, but that was not the way Kvothe did things. Kvothe finished things. As Wil had once said, he got things done. He moved down the stairs like there was no weight to him. Like he was a ghost. As the first rays of sun crossed the horizon, Kvothe is pulling out the stepstool. As the sphere becomes visible he sets it down, and at the same time, Bast wakes up with a horrible feeling.  
Kvothe pulls Folly off the wall as Bast launches himself down the stairs.  
Elodian is still too far away, three leagues or more. He’ll be there in twenty minutes, no less. Perhaps more if anything untoward happens.  
Bast stands, panting at the bottom of the stairs, staring at Kvothe with the sword in his hand.  
“Reshi?” Bast’s question sounds scared, hesitant. Bast has never seen Kvothe. Not truly. He’s seen glimpses, and parodies, but not the real thing. Not this.  
Kvothe grins at him.  
“Want something done, do it yourself, am I right? I'm tired of waiting around.” He sounds chillingly cheerful for his plans.  
Bast gulps.  
“Reshi, you've been unwell. Maybe you should think about what you're doing.”  
He takes a second. This is good advice after all. He thinks it through, again and once more just for kicks, and always comes to the same conclusion.  
“What am I waiting around for? I've always hated waiting, it means you're not doing anything, which means you're letting other people get things done. Well I'm finished with it.” Kvothe holds his sword up and turns resolutely toward the door.  
“Wait, Reshi, what are you going to do?” Bast steps off the stairs. He doesn’t know exactly why, yet, but he knows he needs Reshi to stay.  
Kvothe shrugs cheerily.  
“I'm bringing death to me. I've always been quite good at provocation.”  
Bast takes another couple steps.  
“What about the Inn? The people here, don't you want to help them?”  
Bast has pulled out his best silver tongue. It's quite good, if a bit emotional. Kvothe smiles, slightly proud. Then he laughs.  
“Bast, if I was going to worry about the people of this town I would never have come here. Kote, on the other hand…” He makes an expletive gesture with his left hand, and lets the flat of his blade rest against his shoulder.  
Bast takes a step back. Kvothe is a dangerous thing. It does none good to get in his way. The people of old knew this well, for Kvothe was one of the Ciridae.  
Bast was gaping, trying to think of something, anything to say, and coming up empty. Kvothe shrugs, and turns for the door again. In a moment of happy coincidence, someone knocks on the door just as Kvothe turns. He lets his sword drop from his shoulder in surprise.  
“It’s old Cob, and the rest of them. Ah, of course. Looking for a drink before they leave. Well we might as well let them have at it.” Kvothe starts toward the door, but Bast beats him to it. Bast turns and grins at Kvothe for just a second, and in that second Kvothe realizes Bast’s plan.  
“Hey now Baaaa-” He stops as Bast fully opens the door. The villagers flood in, making orders to Kvothe as they walk past. Ol Cob stops next to Kvothe, smiling like he's prone to do.  
“Now what you doing with that sword Kote? Hope you're not thinking of doing anything stupid like taking the coin.”  
Kvothe moves the sword in an oddly smooth motion, that looks sort of like the flapping of the hand.  
“Oh you know, just cleaning the dust off.”   
Ol Cob frowns, Bast grins.  
“You alright Kote?”  
Bast interjects before Kvothe can even open his mouth.  
“No, no he’s not. He’s been sick for days and now he thinks he’s Kvothe the Kingkiller.”   
Kvothe points the sword at Bast.  
“That was mean.”  
Ol Cob takes a full step back, then another for good measure.  
“Maybe put the sword down, right, Kote?”   
Kvothe glares at Bast.  
“It's not clean yet.”  
Bast glares back.  
“It's never dirty.”  
“Bast.”  
“Reshi.”  
By now, everyone who just came in has realized that something is going down. Old Cob holds a hand out to them to keep them a bit back, but now all the villagers have surrounded the three.  
Back on the ranch, Elodian is two and a half leagues away now.  
“I should be dead three times over Bast. This has gone far enough.”  
Bast scoffs.  
“What, stopping you from ‘cleaning off dust’ as it were?”  
Ol Cob steps forward so that he's more between the two then just at Kvothe’s side.  
“I don't know what's going on here, but I do know that fighting with each other won't do a lick of good. Now both of you calm down, grab a drink and we’ll talk this out.” He’s glancing between the two of them, and coming to the horrible realization that he's got himself into perhaps a more dangerous situation than Shep did.  
“Oh we can talk this out right here, don't you think, Reshi?” If there was ever one emotion that Kvothe couldn't master, it would be the scathingly caring sarcasm that carried in Bast’s voice.  
“Oh sure, though I'm not sure exactly what there is to talk about. What needs to be done, needs to be done.”  
Kvothe knows how to play this game well, the game of words, though this one has turned more volatile then a room full of Amyr with a Chandrian waving a flag in their face and singing ‘Na na na, can't catch me!’  
“I don't think you need to clean that particular sword Reshi. I mean why would Kvothe the Arcane take the time to do something as mundane as cleaning a sword.” Bast has the advantage however, and his placating tone has turned the audience his way.  
“I don't know Bast, I’m sure he had to get the blood off it somehow.”   
The crowd starts murmuring, and some move in closer to help break up any violence.  
“You know what you are Reshi? A liar. All you are is a liar! You aren't Kvothe, not now, if you ever were!” Bast pants, and looks shocked at himself after that outburst. He hadn't meant it at all, but Kvothe hadn't meant his statement either. It still stung, and meaning or no meaning it was enough to push Kvothe over the edge. He lunges for Bast, his sword falling to the floor with a clatter.  
Several of the men grab him before he can reach Bast, hauling him away kicking and screaming. It takes four of them to subdue him enough to start to drag him away, and when they finally drag him out of the inn, Old Cob approaches Bast.  
“I think they’re putting him in the county jail. That should keep him til we can drive the madness out or it passes on it's own.”  
Bast takes several, deep, breaths, and smiles his most daring smile.  
“Oh no, it won't hold him for half a day. I just wanted him away from the sword.” He bends down and picks it up moving across the room and onto the stool so he can put it back in place.  
Ol Cob laughs.  
“That jail’s made of solid iron, it has four locks and one opening for food. Only Kvothe the Arcane could manage to get outta that cell.”  
Bast sets the sword down gently, with reverence.  
“Exactly. And he will. Pretty easily too I should think. Nobody ever worries about the hinges…”  
Ol Cob takes a step back.  
“Av’ you caught the madness too boy? That's just Kote. An innkeeper.”  
Bast laughs in degradation.  
“Oh come on. Comes out of nowhere after Kvothe disappeared, Has a two letter difference in name, has red hair and green eyes, and owns an inn, which everyone knows was a dream of Kvothe's since he was a pup. Your blindness is almost astonishing,” Bast steps down from the stool, headed for the door. “Now I really must go and continue to prevent his death. Try not to ruin the floor.” The door shuts behind him as everyone left in the room is left in shocked realization.  
The men are halfway to the jail, under the strict supervision of Bast, and the intense glaring of Kvothe when a man on horseback gallops up. He promptly falls off the horse. He stands with as much dignity as he can muster, and points at Kvothe.  
“You. You wouldn't happen to know where Kvothe is, would you. He attracts trouble and you look like you're in a lot of it.” Kvothe looks up in surprise, and does a doubletake before laughing, quite maniacally.  
“Speak of Endacis! I can't believe you're here. How in God’s good earth did you find me?”  
The man blinks, and drops his hand.  
“Kvothe?”  
The poor men holding Kvothe are sorely confused by now, poor sods. Kvothe grins a confident smile.  
“Hello Amorè.”   
Bast is standing in front of Elodian in an instant, a dagger pressed against the older man's throat.  
“Who are you, and how do you know Reshi?”   
Elodian glances sidelong at Kvothe. Kvothe sighs.  
“Bast, stand down. This is Master Elodian, of the University.”  
In a supremely coordinated act of superstitions, the men holding Kvothe simultaneously drop him, take a step back, and pull out a piece of iron. Bast looks particularly perturbed.  
“But Reshi… What about Romai?”  
“Felurian? Are you joking? Bast, I thought you were smarter than that. She's fae, I'm mortal. Do the math.”   
Kvothe stands up in a similar matter to Elodian earlier, with as much stubborn dignity as one can manage.  
“I still don't like him.”  
Elodian is glaring at Bast, but he doesn't fancy getting his throat cut so he keeps quiet, which is quite the feat.  
“Bast, Please.”  
“No.”   
Bast looks positively murderous. He begins the motion to do something- most likely bodily harm to Elodian, when a large slam from the inn draws his attention.  
It's The Chronicler, who stumbles a few feet forward after slamming the door open.  
“Bast!”  
Bast’s expression changes slightly, and he looks between Kvothe, and Elodian, and Devan.   
Devan takes a few steps toward Bast, and tries to sound like he's not panicking.  
“Bast?”  
To The Chronicler’s terror, Bast growls at him. He looks just about ready to attack when… He drops the knife. He grunts in frustration, and stomps toward the Chronicler, grabbing his arm.  
“Let's go. Those two need to talk. And so do we.’  
Kvothe watches them go, a small smile on his face.  
“I'm really going to need to ask him what Amorè means now.”  
Elodian coughs, and makes a shoo gesture at the four men, who gladly flee.  
“In naming, it means…”  
Kvothe raises an eyebrow at Elodian as he trails off.  
“Well, it means ‘my only love.’”  
Kvothe blinks. Then he blinks again.  
“Kiist. That's embarrassing.”  
Elodian shrugs.  
“I liked it.”  
Kvothe's surprise is visible.   
“You never let on.”  
Elodian shrugs, and looks mournfully at the space between them.  
“I was going to, when you came back. I was going to tell you. I’ve even got a ring. But then when you came back you were so tainted, so twisted. You were still my Kvothe but there was something wrong. I did it without thinking. I was scared. I've never regretted anything half as much as I regretted that one action.”  
Kvothe takes one single, perfect step, and wraps Elodian in a hug.  
“I forgive you. We’ll both make a lot of mistakes, all the time until we die, but I'll always forgive you.”  
Elodian hadn't had a hug in a long, long time, and he freezes for a second as he remembers how. He slowly wraps his arms around Kvothe.  
“There goes your romanticism again Kvothe. I'll forgive anything stupid you do too. Unless you die. Then we’re going to have several scheduling issues.”  
Kvothe learned long ago that statements such as those were best let go until he learned to understand them  
“... Auri is going to kill me.”  
Elodian laughs.  
“She's not the only one, it’ll take a miracle to keep Sim from beating you to a pulp.”  
Kvothe groans, letting his head drop on Elodian's shoulder.  
“I completely forgot. I'm going to be in the Medica for a month.”  
Elodian pats him on the back, almost mockingly.  
“Don't worry, I’ll protect you. You'll only spend a week in there.”  
Kvothe starts to curse, then freezes and pulls away. He’s remembered his nature, and nature often waylays desire.  
“But you and I both know I can't go back. The only reason I can stay here is because of what you did to me. If I went back it could be catastrophic. There are already more than enough Scrael about. We don't need any more.”  
Elodian is more surprised than anything, tilting his head in curiosity.  
“Really? That worked? It hasn’t worn off yet? Interesting.” He circles around Kvothe, humming Tinker Tanner as he does.  
“Oh, balls. I really scrambled you up bad. Sorry,” He suddenly flinches and moans in despair. “Oh, great. Once I fix this the wind is never going to let me live this down. No wonder it was so howling mad.” He puts a hand on Kvothe's shoulder. Kvothe just looks at him, puzzled.  
“What, what’d you do?”  
Elodian shifts nervously.  
“I may have cut you off from your true name just a tiny bit completely by accident 100% due to the fact Id never done what I was trying to do before and I messed up and absolutely not because I neglected to pay attention to what I was saying.”  
Kvothe's face turns grim.  
“Amorè, I swear…”   
Elodian cuts him off quick as a rabbit.  
“I can fix it! And, mostly everything else to. Its just going to take a while.”  
Yet another raised eyebrow.  
“Okay, a long while. But I can do it.”  
A second one joins the first eyebrow.  
“In theory.”  
Kvothe nods in satisfaction.  
“And what it you can't fix it?”  
Elodian looks and sounds surprisingly confident when he replys.  
“Then I’ll come with you. If only to teach you how to write home.”  
Kvothe smiles, more broad and true then he has in years.  
“Alright then. Now what on earth have you done to that poor horse?”

Fini.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading.


End file.
